


Mistakes of the Past

by AussieTransfan2015



Series: Mythical AU [27]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/M, Lost Child, Mourning, New Family, Recalling memories, Remenising, Shocking News, Surprising news, finally done, how do you tag, mythical AU, this took forever
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 18:12:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9560933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AussieTransfan2015/pseuds/AussieTransfan2015
Summary: Promethea, a rare High Dragon holding dominion in the Eastern Mountains. Proud and content with her family, she remained sullen by the anniversary of her lost child.A change came in the message envoy from the Demon lord of the North. Perhaps the past is about to rectify myself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Promethea is my OC  
> Eclipse belongs to thebigloserqueen as part of this AU
> 
> Finally gotten over a dry spell in my Alternate universes, await more fics from these tales :D

Mythical AU

Promethea/Predaking

Mistakes of the Past

* * *

 

The Western Mountain ranges, spanning from the Northern Alps, were known for being the harshest of the lands climates. With high cliff-sides, spanning chasms, blankets of ice and snow capping their peaks with low, secluded valleys below. Not many could find rest in such harsh place.

Save for those who ruled the skies.

Harpies, Sylphs and Erinyes built nests and carved perches from the rocks to build their nests or rest themselves while Gargoyles, Cockatrices, Garuda and Hippogriffs vied for worn caves chiselled by the fluxing weather patterns. But, the true prize within the mountains were old and dilapidated structures.

Legend states these ranges were formed when Primus fought with his dark twin, Unicron. The old castles of the past withstanding time though shattered by the conflict. Though in essence many other structures were built by Kings, creature and man alike, to tame these desolate wastes for their own. All that was left of them were the remnants of their castles and villas.

One such, claimed near centuries ago, held true for its mistress. High and carved from the very mountain, the dragoness of the valley retained her territory.

Promethea, relaxed in her human garb, looked over as the sun rose from her chambers. Her heart shifted as the warm sun melted the ice from her bones, drawing a nice dull bloom to well within. Though her mind could not focus on the feeling as it could conjure it. This day often left her in mourning.

"My love," a low churr, almost a purr, rose beside her. Though she indulged in shifting between her humanoid and true forms, her mate lacked the same interest. Towering over her, a drake of astonishing size, dark scales echoed by wisps of orange. Large horns of ivory, obsidian and steel decorated his crest like a crown, lowering his hulking maw to nuzzle his lover. Mindful of her now smaller stature, his eyes glowed in passion as they scanned her own crown of horns poking out from her sunlit tresses. Her skin was pale as snow, freshly fallen, while her eyes blazed like candlelight in the darkness. Her dress might've seemed inappropriate for a woman of her age; hugging her curveous body, a long red velvet dress pooled around her, a long slit reaching as far as her tight to allow for movement. A corset hugged her midsection as the dress rose beneath to split at the bust line. Chains and jewellery held all in place while gold scales decorated all exposed flesh, lining her arms and legs, her neck and face. Adding the fine lines of age, Promethea appeared as a woman in her sixties or seventies but remained as youthful as ever. Deceived by her appearance, only keen eyes could see the true wisdom in her eyes.

"I am fine, beloved," she cooed back, placed delicate hands decorated in long black claws upon his armoured snout, placing a small kiss. Though please with the attention, huffing and chancing a small lick, the drake knew something was amiss.

"Every year you take on this form and remain for the whole day,” the drake tried to soothe his mate. “Why?”

Promethea wished she could hold her mask in place, she wished she could brush the drake off but, within her human form, she lacked the skill to hide her emotions and thoughts. Humans were so expressive. It took true skill to hide one’s thoughts and feelings with a human guise. “Today…is a day of mourning.”

Before she could elaborate anymore, twin shrieks echoed over the mound. Looking with her mate, leaning out of her balcony window, she watched as her sons skittered and snapped, playing around with a trio of smaller creature. But her keen eyes noticed something, something missed by her family. “Leave them be, love,” her mate cooed, using his claws to pull her back to his bulk but she easily slipped by, leaping from the window.

Growling, her mate followed behind. His eyes grew and shone brighter as her form shifted back to her regal and dangerous form. Larger than his own form, golden scales blazing like a sun while her horns curled in a wave elegantly over her head. Striking to a point, her very size and stature erupted fear to all who saw the High Dragon. A matriarch to her own right.

Landing heavily, shaking the grounds of her home, her sons cornered their prey but in her presence, submitted and drew away. Looming over these creatures, the scent reeking of a demon and many lesser creatures. A low grumble rolled in her chest, rearing up as the sun caught the sheen of her golden scales, she sized the tiny creatures.

“Tell me. Why is it you – a simpering plague of vile insects – find it prudent to intrude upon my home, unannounced?” her drawl masked the hiss biting her words, stalking around the jittering and fidgeting insectoids. “Pray you find the courage to speak before my patience grows thin.” Smoke simmered from her mawl, licking between her large teeth.

The trio whimpered, shaking from the high dragon’s threat and the haunting glares of her kin, two ganged up on their third, pushing him forward into the spotlight. He shook, colour draining from his exoskeleton as his many eyes glazed. Fear reeked from his, seeping from the seams of his tough hide but the added nudging and hits of his comrades pushed urgency ahead.

“M-m-my lady-y~” the bug shook, attempting a respectful bow but only managed to appear unsteady and about to fall over his feet. “I…I-I mean w-we c-come to you o-on…”

“Spit it out, whelp,” her hiss dropped the poor bug, his nerves shot by her glare alone.

“M-My Lord Megatron reques-s-s-st your presence, M-my lady!!” the bug finally shrieked, his fear braced with urgency and willing to flee hastening his words. “An important issue has-s-s-s arisen and he s-s-s-seeks your council!!” the echoing rumble of dragons surrounding the insects sent them into fits of panic before their hostess leant forward. For fear the great dragon would devour their brother, the insects cringed and pressed as far into the ground as possible; trying to appear submissive and not worth a meal. Instead of the crushing pressure of the dragon’s mawl, they were met with the heavy smell of sulphur and a low chuckle.

“Was that so hard?” Promethea churred, leaning back satisfied. “Return to your master, and with haste. I will…oblige his request.”

Not a moment later, the insectoids were in flight and pushing beyond themselves to place as much distance from the castle between them for fear of the dragons change their minds and ending them.

“Was that necessary, my love?” Predaking loomed forward, nuzzling Promethea’s scaled neck. A warm churr rolled under her scales, reciprocating her mate’s affection. Her smile grew when her sons, often times against displays of affection for the sake of their pride, relinquished such and offered their mother loving nips and purring nuzzles. All of which she returned.

“We are often left without entertainment, my dear King,” her cooing lasted only the moment, her gazing turning to the eastern horizon. “What concerns me more is the little tyrant’s request. What could he possibly need my council on?”

“You will not be alone,” turned back by her mate, his intense gaze stealing her breath away. “You will not face that demon alone.”

“That is sweet of you, my love,” her thin tongue licked his jawline, mindful of her horns catching him. “But I know this demon well; coming with either you or our sons may provoke him. A bother none of us should be subjected to,” with a final lick, Promethea moved past them. “I will placate this tyrant and return unharmed. Please keep yourselves out of trouble.” Brandishing her wings, spanning wide and catching the early sun, she leaped off the high shambling walls and caught the wind. Her bulk move as if a feather on the way, gliding and rising effortlessly. Her power slashed the air with each wingbeat, drawing her closer to the darkening north. Since the time of Nemesis, the Devil Ruler of the Northern ranges, the sun struggled to share its warmth and light to the frigid and cursed lands. A perfect domain to a demon tyrant.

The wind picked up as she decended toward the citadel gates, citizens of the dark and decrepit capital screamed and shrieked, running at the sight of her and pointing at her shimmering bulk. Undetered, she soared over the masses and came to a flapping halt at the gates. She watched the guards closely, taking a moment to gleam their prone forms and their struggle against her strong gusts of wind. Smirking only as a dragon could, a rumbling roar echoed across the buildings, her body erupting in a flash of light. The ground shook a moment before all lay quiet. The guards adjusted from their assault, most raising their spears and swords, only to stand frozen in confusion and awe.

Promethea reformed before them, her humanoid form was always useful to masses unfamiliar with her true form. Her wings, tail, horns and scales remained as they had before; looking remotely humanoid was beneath a dragon to take on, but it had become a necessity they must accept.

“Such manners to show a guest,” she cruelly snipped, brushing aside a guard’s raised spear and eyeing another’s sword. “I was under the assumption your king requested my presence, I will not tolerate being bothered for no reason.”

“Forgive me, my Lady,” came a new voice, turning heads to the opened gates. Twins stood before them, though only a trained eye could see they were vastly different. Both may have bowed legs, tails and wings, both accompanied by feathers and fur pelts, one of the twins was definitely a griffon with his long, tended lion’s mane while his twin sported a long, thinner mane much like a hippogriffs’. “I am Dreadwing, and this is my brother Skyquake. His eminence was not expecting your presence so…promptly. We would have organised a more welcoming attendance.”

“Spare me your frivolities, I only indulge your king out of sheer boredom and intrigue. Simply take me to him so I may be done with this inconvenience,” she waved her hands, dismissing their attempts to appeal to her.

“My my, such disrespect~” a haunting whisper chilled the entrance. The guards shook, eyes darting to all shadows to find the whispers origins. Promethea’s eyes rolled, having caught the offending scent before any such form materialised. Tarn emerged from his hideaway, his form looming as the guards parted and drew away from him. Skyquake and Dreadwing tensed as well, though not for the lich’s appearance. “To be invited by our supreme leader is an honour many will never receive, my dear lady. It is an affront to his graciousness to show such impertinence~” leaning forward, his sharp bony fingers reaching out to the dragon to feel her fear.

Promethea’s glare intensified, and like a spark in a forest, Tarn’s robe erupted in flames. The shocked and surprised lich was left open to Promethea’s tail swiping his legs out from under him. Landing hard, his breath forced from his lungs as a large, scaled and taloned food slammed down on him. Mask displaced, his haunting glowing eyes shot back to the dragoness, her eyes alight with fire while nonchalantly raising her gown for her leg.

“I care not for your king; I care not for your so called prestige. I am capable of burning this simple building and raising this city to ashes. Undignified it is, on behalf of your king no less, to show such barbaric and distasteful manners to a visitor and a lady. I come because I chose to, not because your king willed it so. Remove your offensive self before I find it pertinent to end your existence.” Remaining frozen on the ground, Promethea removed her talons from Tarn before returning attention to the twins.

“Please, we apologise for…such displays,” the twins bowed.

“We will take you to our Lord,” parting and directing Promethea through, she waved her wing over Tarn as they passed, effectively removing the flames from his person. She might be severely annoyed with the current events, but even burning a member of Megatron’s court was not a welcoming action. She refused to be seen so unrefined.

Allowed through as the twins opened the throne room doors, Promethea, posture straight and hands folded, she seemed to glide across the room toward the small entourage surrounding Megatron. Her keen senses picked up all within the room; the demon king himself, a wendigo at his side, two ogres standing guard and another at Megatron’s other side. What she hadn’t counted on was there to be a human with him too. Her eyes landed on the young woman, noting the extravagant gown she was wearing; noting how the purple contrasted lovingly again she pale fair skin. Strange how such an…influential and powerful tyrant could have such a dainty and fair woman on his arm, let alone a human.

“My Lord, Lady Promethea as you requested,” Dreadwing bowed, standing aside for the draconian mistress. Head held high, Promethea refrained a small bow, showing her respects but retaining her own dignity.

“You are on thin ice, Promethea,” not so much as a greeting before Megatron’s aura flickered around him. “I will not tolerate you setting my vassels on fire.”

“Then perhaps you need to educate them in respecting their guests,” she retorted, her eyes igniting. Both powerful creatures filled the room with battling auras, neither backing down. Bombrush, rolling his eyes, stepped forward.

“My dear lady,” bowing low and shifting her molten gaze. “We understand the vague nature of our lord’s invite. I can assure you it will be as much worth to you as it will be to us. Tarn’s behaviour, though shameful as it was, I ask for your understand; his position allows him to protect our Lord by any and all means.”

“That may be, but I will not apologise for defending myself nor apologise for the stupidity of one knowingly provoking me. I’m sure Megatron would understand the wrath of a dragon provoked,” eyeing the demon once more, his aura flaring once more but she noticed the woman placing a hand on his arm, calming the aura. “Though, I will refrain given present company. Greetings to you, my dear.”

Her sudden greeting and acknowledgement to the woman caused her to jump, pulling an amused smile. Unsure, the woman turned to the others before being ushered forward by Megatron. Taking a moment, she stepped forward and dipped into a simple curtsy.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Promethea. I…My name is Eclipse,” she caught herself before a small stutter could escape her nerves, but all motion froze as light, needle-tipped fingers cradled her chin. Raised up, Promethea studied her features and face, a quick glance to Megatron proving what she had assumed.

"Such a formidable woman you are,” she mused, leaving the matter as Megatron reclaimed her. She could see her comment left the woman puzzled and confused, but she stood by her words as Megatron sent his own warning. One Promethea brushed aside. She had no reason to be a threat to his woman, Eclipse was petite and polite; two things Promethea found adorable and refreshing.

"Perhaps, we return to the matter at hand?” Shockwave pointed out, catching the room’s attention. Megatron nodded, his mood turning sour fast. He passed Eclipse over to one of his ogre guards, one who graciously escorted Eclipse from the room. Promethea remained patient though her own patience was wearing thin. Escorted once again from the throne room to another, smaller room. All parties took a seat at a large conference table. Long, dark hardwood from the North’s famed Steelwood trees, matched with finely crafted chairs, Promethea had to admit the demon lord had somewhat refined tastes. Thanking Bombrush’s courtesy again, having pulled her chair for her as she seated.

“Now, perhaps someone could tell me why I have been invited here?” She asked, looking between Megatron, Bombrush and Shockwave. “Your messengers had stated you sort my council?” Passing on his small growl, Megatron passed over a small vial of blood. Taking it, she stared back deadpanned. “You’re asking my council on a vial of blood? Was your councilman, a wendigo for that matter, unable to determine it’s origins?”

“For a matter of fact, Lady Promethea,” Shockwave stated, turning her head. “It is because of this vial that our lord requested your presence,” watching her puzzlement and curiosity grow as she observed the vial. “Through some of my more extensive and experimental tests, this blood is closely connected to you.”

“Such a curious conundrum this is,” she mused, placing the vial down and turning to Megatron. “I am well aware this cannot be possibly mine, and yet you claim it is closely connected to me.” His annoyance had waned somewhat from the throne room but the glower he head on the dragon mistress still licked and whipped with his dark aura. “My sons have made no mention of being injured or shedding blood. So, pray tell, just how is this blood is related to me?”

“It was taken from a woman,” Megatron replied, stepping in before Shockwave or Bombrush could answer her. “This woman, though thought human, had scaled my citadel’s highest tower to deliver a message to my wife, Eclipse.” So he was married, Promethea had noticed such connection couldn’t just be a blooming romance. Truly that woman was stronger than first thought. But this new woman was intriguing; to scale such a high tower only to deliver a message? “A courier from one of the human capitals.”

“That you almost killed,” Bombrush added, looking back to his king.

“Regardless, something occurred that brought concern to the safety of my Queen then to the nature of this anomaly,” Megatron glared back to his General for his comment, but returned to Promethea’s curious glance. “The woman erupted into flames, scales spanned her body and horns sprouted from her head. She, after the altercation, survived impact after being thrown from the tower.”

“Truly?” Promethea was only half-hearted with her concern. “That has yet to explain this so called ‘blood connection’.”

“After some rather…difficult altercations,” Megatron resumed, “Blood was drawn from this woman and Shockwave has determined…you are related to this woman.”

“Related?” Her chuckled annoyed the king, but he could see some conflict in her gaze, something had arisen in her mind. There was a desperation that he had never seen in the dragon in all the times he had the displeasure of seeing her. She was never desperate, regarding anything. So assured in herself and those around her. To see this, was a true sign of weakness.

"Indeed, My lady," Shockwave assured, turning her amused eyes back. "These tests concluded you are biologically related to this woman, so much so I can confirm with confidence that you are perhaps her mother if not her grandmother.” A short breath escaped her, a tear threatening to fall.

“That’s…that’s impossible,” she mused, looking down at the vial again. “W-what did she look like?”

“Before the change; honey brown hair, like spun gold,” Bombrush described, knowing he would be able to describe this woman in details Promethea needed to hear. “She has bright blue eyes, shimmering like deep pools. Despite darkening from the sun, her skin is fair and worn from hard-work. Lastly, there was a birthmark,” Promethea lent forward, anticipation holding her breath. “On the crown of her head, just at her hairline, a mark in the shape of gemstone.”

Promethea choked, stepping up from her seat and turning away from them. She hated showing weakness, especially before someone like Megatron, but hear this news moved her more than anything in her life. This woman, she shook her head in disbelief. It couldn’t be true.

“W-what is her name?”

“I believe the traitor called her ‘Solstice’,” another choke rocked Promethea’s body, drawing concern from Bombrush. Megatron found this display interesting, given Promethea’s usual cool and confident air while Shockwave remained silent. Promethea took a moment to calm herself, calming her breathing and calming her shakes. A deep breath found her back in her seat, tears gently wiped from her cheeks. “My lady?”

“Forgive me…” she almost whispered, “To hear such news, especially on this day, it something hard to process.”

“And what is today?” Megatron asked, ignoring the glare sent by Bombrush. It wasn’t a question he should’ve asked, not when it was causing her such distress. But Promethea seemed to push past her initial shock, turning to the tyrant with renewed fire.

“My daughter died, this day, twenty-five years ago,” losing a child was never easy, for a mother it was heart-shattering.

“Was her father human?” Shockwave asked, purpose in his question it also moved away from the harsh memories.

“Yes, I had believed he loved me…” recalling the memories were harsh, the thought of the man twisted her stomach along with the actions he took. “Dragons often don’t make life-long mates; despite my age I had found companionship with him. We courted, we shared love and life, all seemed as it should. I even gave him a daughter, even in my age. It was a miracle…” her hands cradled her midsection. “But he stole her away…” Megatron paused, feeling the heat radiating from her. “He had wanted to show her to his family, I trusted him with her safety. But her screams led me to them…to see him try and kill her…he dared called her a freak,” small flames appeared on her scales. “Not only abandoning her, but he cut her to ensure a beast would find her and…” she held her breath, fearing the outcome of admitting her words.

“You killed him,” Megatron might’ve been stating the obvious, but Promethea never corrected him.

“I chased him, determined to stop him and reclaim my child. But during the chase, my daughter was gone. He claimed to have thrown her down a hill, only fuelling my anger. I had returned to the hill and found only her blanket and blood. I couldn’t find her and feared the worse.” Admitting her tale after so long brought relief as well as deepening its growing pit of despair.

“Apparently not it would seem, given the woman we encountered,” Shockwave added, watching as Promethea pulled back and returned to a stoic state.

“I doubt you asked for me here isn’t just to tell me this, what did you really wish to know?” she hissed, Megatron crossed his hands and rested his chin on them.

“I want to know what she is, and if it is possible to replicate,” Promethea shook her head, she should’ve known Megatron sort something like this to further himself.

“She is the union of a human and non-human, a combination of both species without complications. It would seem her draconic nature had been repressed until a triggering event,” recalling Bombrush mentioning Megatron had almost killed her rediscovered daughter, something she was not pleased with. “I have only heard of this happening rarely. Coming about when two from either species copulate in a manner both will survive.” Quirking an eyebrow, Megatron listened. “Since I gave birth to her, there were no real complications, but say if roles were reversed I would have no doubt childbirth would’ve killed me, as it has others who have attempted this before. If the creature, being the sire, is too strong or too dangerous for a human to survive then they will not live through childbirth. Though I could see this attempt proceeding with your wife, if that is the true reason for this,” she caught Megatron’s musings and abrupt glare. She had figured. “Your wife would no doubt need extremely attentive care, however. I have heard some demonic pregnancies to be quite…traumatic to the women. Extreme as well.”

“And yet if two creatures copulate, the children they produce are fine,” Megatron argued, looking between Promethea and Shockwave.

“That’s because creatures are stronger than humans,” Shockwave clarified. “Besides, often times when creatures decide to have families together, they have something in common. With humans, they are both biologically different and genetically different. Their children are half of their parents made whole, while creatures can lean more to one parent than another.”

That made sense, if only in a scientific perspective. The prospect and theory was still there, it could still work.

“Regardless, it would seem by your explanation that this is a rare chance of events, one not easily replicated,” Shockwave mused, turning back attention to the subject.

“On the contrary, given your obvious skill with blood, I have no doubt that certain conditions can be met with inquisition and thorough research,” Promethea added. “I, however, have no interest in such things. Where is my daughter?”

“All we know is she is in the Southern lands, but from what Tarn had discovered, she resides close to the human’s main capital,” Bombrush replied, the importance of finding one’s child is something he could understand, since marrying Soundwave and adopting her children.

“Thank you,” she offered a small smile, nodding to the General before addressing Megatron. “Is this all you wished to discuss?”

He didn’t offer any words, simply nodding. This revelation wasn’t the outcome his might’ve wanted, the consolation being Eclipse could bear heirs. Heirs with his strength and her temperament and beauty. An ideal combination.

With his answer, Promethea rose from her seat. Megatron had given her much to think about, as well as having no other reason to stay. Megatron had his answer and she had no other reason to stay. Excused and bidding farewell, Promethea slipped from the citadel and returned to her true form.

She was going to find her daughter. She was going south to reclaim her lost child.

 


End file.
